


Home.

by shawnslittlepeach



Category: Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, CEO Shawn, F/M, Fluff, Gen, like really fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 04:00:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shawnslittlepeach/pseuds/shawnslittlepeach





	Home.

Weekdays for Shawn typically went a little something like this: wake up at around 6 am. Gym until 7 am, and out the door for work by 8 am. There are phone calls, and meeting after meeting until lunch at 2 pm (eaten in his office of course). Then, depending on the day of the week, he’d come home at about 5 pm to you on his couch working on a paper or grading poor undergrads’ papers. He’d spend a little time with you. Have Melinda make something for the two of you to eat at about 7 pm and it was back in his home office until 11 pm. He’d finally retreated to the bedroom to find you sleep soundly, in one of his shirts looking like (in his eyes) the definition of perfection. It was his routine.  So it was a bit of a shock to the system to see you sitting up in bed awake as ever hunched over your laptop when he finally stepped into his bedroom at nearly one in the morning.

“I thought I was supposed to be the workaholic around here.” Shawn smiled, leaning against the door frame of the master bedroom.  

“Hey, you.” You smile, looking up at him only for a moment before turning your attention back to your laptop, typing away.

“What are you doing?”  he asks sauntering over to his side of the bed placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Answering emails. Looking for movers, which is a lot more difficult than I thought by the way.”

After 2 months of Shawn nearly begging you to move in with him you’d finally agreed. You weren’t sure about it at first, you always felt like you were taking too much from him, and you didn’t want to be ‘that girl.’ But he kept assuring you that it was okay and pressing how he just wanted to take care of you so you caved. All it took was a little pout and a batting of his lashes and you’d agree to anything he’d say.

“I told you I can handle it.”

“I know Shawn but I don’t want you to do everything. 50/50 remember.”

“Honey it’d be so much easier-”

“50/50.”

“Alright, 50/50.” he nods, but you can see him biting the inside of his cheek, trying to stop himself from starting another argument.

He closes your laptop for you, tossing it aside before cuddling into you, laying his head into your lap. It was your cue to thread your fingers through his hair, and give him a little massage. He loved having his hair played with and it never stopped you from giggling whenever he leaned into your touch.

“It’s going to be nice having you here.”

“I’m here nearly everyday Shawn.” you smile looking down at him.

“I know but now this will be home for you. And I know you’ll be here when I come back from shitty business trips. And that you’re safe when I’m not around.” he beginnings gnawing at his bottom lip before he lets out a deep sigh.

“What?”

“You can still change your mind,”  he mumbles looking away from you.

“What, no. Why would I do that?”

“Forget it.” He sighs, shaking his head. He sits up and shimmies his way to his side of the bed, ready to turn away from you but you stop him.

“Tell me.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, just biting the inside of his cheek, running his fingers through his curls.“I know this is different for you, and that you get overwhelmed sometimes…”

“Shawn, I’m way past that.”

The first time you went to his house, the first time he took you on a ‘business trip’ flying private, the shopping sprees ‘just because’, all of that was overwhelming, to say the least. And insecurity would sneak up every once in a while, hell how could it not. He was the son of one of the most wealthy and powerful families in Toronto, set to inherit everything thing when his father retired, and you were just a grad student, working a shitty desk job to get through school. What the hell would he want to do with someone like you? But he stayed. He downright invaded your life, but you were happy for it. He was one of the best things to happen to you in a long time, and even with all the things that came attached with him, all you saw was Shawn. A fact that made him fall in love with you even more.

“I know you say you are, but all of this - I know it’s. My job, my family. The fucking galas and charity balls, if you don’t want to dive in completely then I get it. We can keep things like they are and -”

As soon as you moved in his life would become yours. He wanted you to know that you could have an escape in your own place. That you could step out of the crazy life of being the almost Mrs. Mendes whenever you needed. If you needed, because there was nothing Shawn feared more than you decide that you would rather have a simpler life, than that of a socialite.

“Shawn, stop. None of that stuff matters,” he looked at you with the saddest puppy eyes you’d ever seen. “It was strange at first and I went through a bit of a learning curve, but you helped me through it and I’m used to it now if that’s the word. Besides I want to move in because I love you, and I hate it when your away. The rest of the stuff is just that. Stuff.”

He’d never met someone like you. You were there for him. You didn’t care about his job or his family or his money. For some reason unbeknownst to him you loved him.

“I love you.”

“Love you too bubs.”

He smiles up at you leaning over to his nightstand. But it’s that smile, that you know he’s about to do or say something stupid, and then you see the signature blue box.

“Shawn…”

“I know! It’s just stuff but I couldn’t help it,” he admits, with a sheepish smile. He really couldn’t help himself when it came to spoiling you. No matter how much you would protest, he could never bring himself to walk away from something that reminded him of you.

He opens the small box, revealing a beautiful silver tennis bracelet with a single charm dangling from it. A little silver key.

“Consider it a housewarming present,” he says, carefully taking it out of its box and adjusting it around your wrist.

You admire it, noticing the way it sparkled as the light hit it in different ways. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” you smile up at him, the biggest grin etched on your face.

“Welcome home, babe.”


End file.
